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Where It All Started free porn video
Why I was standing here at his doorstep in the dying sunlight was obvious. I was far too curious to let this opportunity go. These feelings had been building for years, originating as a spark in the form of a suggestion from my girlfriend. That spark had now grown into a full-fledged conflagration, a burning lust. I needed to do this.
She had left me about 2 months prior to me finding myself in this position. And in the intervening time, I had found a call to join the Army. I’d be leaving in 3 weeks or so. Back then, what I was about to do would have gotten me thrown out, at least if anyone found out about it. This desire, this burning curiosity would need to be quenched before then, and quietly. I could trust Scott. He was safe.
Scott and I had enjoyed a close friendship, or maybe more of a mentorship, him being just south of 50 and me only recently having reached 20. We had become friends through my work as a janitor at the local gym, though I had no idea he was gay until a coworker asked if we were dating. Being who I am, his being gay had no bearing on our friendship, but it did have me second-guessing some things that had gone on. First, he would invite me to his place to hang out, invite me out to dinner (his treat), and offer me assistance with my bills. Ok, so, was he courting me? Trying to get in my pants? He knew I had a girlfriend. He knew I wasn’t gay….
No. I look back on the way he treated me and believe he was merely being a good friend. He never made any advances on me. Never tried to kiss me. Never let his hand linger anywhere on my body. I do remember one time, after we finally talked about his sexual preference, when he mentioned that he thought I had a cute butt. At that point, I just took it as the compliment it was intended to be. I started actually feeling even more comfortable around him. We would have dinner together at least once a week. In fact, standing here at his front door, he had just dropped me off an hour ago from what was to have been the last time we saw each other before I shipped out.
I finally resolved to go through with it. I rang his doorbell. And waited. And waited. It seemed an eternity. I was losing my nerve, having doubts. Then, I saw his shadow approach the door. He opened it, and I just looked into his eyes. I was safe here.
We hugged, nothing new. I nearly stripped right then and there, open door be damned. Thankfully, his head was quite a bit less overrun with lust, enough to close the door and attempt to calm me down. “Whoa, Amos. Slow down. Let’s have a drink and talk this through first.”
Of course. I don’t remember much of what we talked about. I do remember getting into his house around 8:30, thanks to the oven clock. I also remember sharing a bottle of Captain Morgan’s while we sat in his living room. I do vaguely remember discussing what I was looking for, and him agreeing to do his best to fulfill my fantasies. I also remember the feelings in my stomach, rejecting this deluge of alcohol along with the butterflies that come with any first-time experience. Those feelings are a rally killer, let me tell you.
He helped me to his rest room as I was barely able to find my feet, much less my balance. He positioned me at his toilet while I purged my stomach of all traces of alcohol. I recall him offering me a glass of water as my senses started to return. One of his extra toothbrushes found its way into my hand, then into my mouth, complete with minty toothpaste. I told him I could stand on my own, and I’d meet him back in the living room. I cleaned up, finished with a mouthwash, and looked myself in the eye. I’m going to do this.
By the time I got back to the living room, I was naked. I walked over my astonished friend, leaned down, and kissed him. I was afraid to kiss him on the lips, but he definitely got what I was going for. I whispered in his ear that I wanted him to use me for his pleasure. His lips found mine, his tongue parted them, and we were on his living room couch making out. His hands explored my naked skin while mine struggled to find and dexterity in removing his clothes. After who knows how long, he broke off the kiss, lightly pushing me away. “Let’s move this to a more comfortable location.”
I followed him to his room. I remember watching him remove his clothing as we walked up the stairs. His lily white butt was all I could see as I entered his room. Then he turned, and there he was. There, in front of me, begging for release, was the first cock I’d ever seen in person other than my own. The butterflies returned momentarily, but I pushed through the unease. I kissed him, then, eyes locked on his, dropped to my knees. I reached out, took hold of his cock, lightly stroked him. Our gazes still locked, I opened my lips and moved my mouth over him. My lips closed just past the head of his manhood. I tasted my first cock. I could feel his hardness, his softness, his desire. His lust matched mine for now. I bobbed gently, allowing his member to grow to full mast. His moans urged me to continue, but my body wanted something else.
He helped me up from my knees as I disengaged. His lips again met mine. His stubble alternately tickled and burned my face, a beautiful mixture of pleasure and pain. I could still smell the alcohol on his breath, yet was oddly turned on even more. I felt his hands caress my body, my shoulders and back. Then I felt the hands move down, slowly massaging every inch of my back, all the way down to my desirous cheeks. I almost begged him to do it, but I was trying to remain patient. I needed to let him go at his speed as much as he needed to let me go at mine. In truth, I didn’t want to wait. I wanted all of him right then. Eventually, he turned me around and bent me over his bed. I spread my legs apart and reached back to spread my cheeks. His face was already there, his tongue on my quivering hole. At some point, he had retrieved the lube, because he backed out his tongue and I could feel his first finger, cold with lube, rubbing my hole. His finger pressed gently, then entered my eager hole. Only some pain. Not too much. I can handle this. Then the finger was removed, more lube and a second finger added, and again pressing into me. Oooohh. Okay. We’re still good. Removed, lubed, another finger.
“Please, Scott. Please fuck me,” was all I could say. The butterflies gone, replaced by lust. “I want you inside me,” I moaned. Or shouted, I’m still unsure of which. He removed his fingers yet again. This time, I could hear the condom wrapper being ripped. I heard him unroll the condom onto his cock. I heard the lube bottle squirt. I looked into the mirror at the other side of his bed and could see his lust-filled eyes taking in the treat I was offering. I saw the determination as he lined his member up with my entrance. I saw the gentle mercy in his eyes as he gently began to push.
A quick side note. I’m not sure if it was the condom, the size of his cock, or what it was. But really, his fingers had not prepared me for the pain I felt. The pain wasn’t searing, burning, not even very intense, but was certainly different from just a finger or two. In fact, I’ve been using my own fingers on my ass for decades now, and had been for at least a year at this point. But let me just say that I was not prepared for the initial stabbing pain.
I did try to just persevere and let him continue, but it got to a point where I felt more than a little uncomfortable. I said so. Scott, being a very conscientious man, stopped pushing. I was still unable to comfortably accommodate him, so he slowly pulled out. The moment his cock was gone, I wanted it again. He added more lube, both to his cock and my ass. We tried again.
I honestly don’t remember how many times he had to pull out to add more lube, but in the end I really didn’t care. Probably one of the best feelings in my life was when his hips finally rested against my ass with his member firmly lodged deep inside of me. He let me catch my breath before pulling back almost all the way, just to push all the way back inside. He pulled out completely once more, just to add more lube. I remember thinking Give it to me, Scott just before his head was again at the entrance. He playfully smacked my ass. “You ready, Amos? Here I come!”
He fucked me good and hard. Well, I thought it was hard, but I was just a rookie. It felt good, still a slight pain, but it felt good. After a few minutes, or an hour, or anywhere in between, he had me get on the bed on my back. He came up and easily reentered and continued the advance and retreat assault on my virginity. I was somewhat disappointed that I wasn’t erect, but getting a hard cock up my ass more than made up for that. I honestly don’t know how long he lasted before shooting his load while up my ass. I don’t even recall being able to feel his climax. I was merely reveling his being inside me. I didn’t even care that I hadn’t cum. We lay there for a few minutes, his cock still inside me, gently kissing each other. Then, the inevitable removal, and I did feel empty. More than that, I felt open. I was scared I’d lost control of my sphincter, but I think all virgins must go through that. He removed the condom to the trash, then came back with some water. We talked lightly through the events of the evening and I gradually drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I did feel odd in a way I can’t explain. It wasn’t a good nor a bad odd feeling, but I attribute it to having lost my other virginity. We showered together with minimal hanky panky. He then took me out for breakfast. We didn’t kiss again, and I’m unsure as to how he felt about that. He seemed to not mind too much, as the next time I saw him, about 6 months later while I was still in training for the Army, we found our way to a hotel bed and repeated my guilty pleasure.
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